Fate, Maybe?
by DivinelyLoved
Summary: Helena is an Irish woman who gets the chance to travel on the Titanic to America. Everyone know the Titanic is destined to sink. Does fate have different plans for her? Based on a true story. Review! This summary has been edited.
1. Before

**A/N: This is based on true event but I can not promise that all the facts are accurate. If anyone gets confused by the last sentence is a continuation of the sentence at the end of the first part (hopefully that makes sense).**

_**Fate Maybe?**_

Alex screamed and shut her eyes to shield herself from visions of water the struggling people fighting for their way up to the top of the ship so that they might at least have _some_ chance for survival. She didn't want to watch it.

"Why are they keeping those people down there daddy?" Alex asked seeing no sense in the confusion and panic displayed on the TV in front of her.

"Well," her father started, "when the Titanic went down they tried to keep all the Irish and other people without much money down in the lower levels," explaining it in a ways that she would understand.

"Why would they want the Irish to die daddy? Aren't we Irish?"

"Yes, we are honey, but these Irish didn't have much money," he explained delicately, rubbing Alex's back.

"I'm glad we weren't on that boat," Alex stated.

"Yeah, me too, but ya' know what?" her father asked, adding to the conversation.

"Hmm?" she asked, turning her attention back to the film.

"**One of your great, great grandmothers almost rode on the Titanic..." (A/N: This connects to the last sentence.)**

* * *

_April 1, 1911_

I ran down to the docks as the tears ran down my face. I would be leaving my friends, and family behind, but hopefully there would find a better life waiting for me when I reached America.

Scanning my eyes over the sea of green rolling hills with large boulders scattered randomly on each of the hillsides. The trees blew lightly in the breeze. The air I breathed smelled of sea air. I let out another sob as my friends continued to wave goodbye.

I could see in their eyes that they were jealous of that my family had managed to get a rare ticket for me. I knew that in their place I would too; the famine was bad here, but no one had heard of any food shortage in America. I didn't let it get to me too much thought because underneath the envy in their eyes I could see that they were happy for me. Allowing one more sob before turning back towards the people heading for the docks.

This couldn't be happening to me. Not to _me_.

I was always the girl who was teased for being unlucky. There were consent things staining my clothes, my meals tended to be the one with the a large fly in the middle that no one realized was in there until it was already in my mouth. I was the one who was always getting blamed for pranks that I never even knew had taken place until I was the one beaten for them.

I was by no means lucky.

One thing I was more curious about then anything else at the moment was, if I wasn't lucky then how did I get this ticket?

In a matter of minutes I was able to see the ship, above all the buildings; moments after that I was pushed into a crowd of screaming, over excited people. Dust flew up into the air as everyone began to push their way towards the dock. I went up on my toes to see above the huge mass of heads, moving around before me, I could barely see men standing in expensive blue uniforms on the ramps where they were loading.

Suddenly I was knocked back down to my feet as two young boys, probably about ages ten and eight, as they ran past playing a game of chase. I laughed and continued making my way towards the loading docks.

I quickly found myself trying to push through the crowds towards the loading docks, but it seemed useless, since basically every other person who had a ticket and many other people didn't but were trying to sneak on anyway. After a while of struggling against everyone else I found myself just standing in one place and letting the crowd push me whichever way and actually ended up being one of the first of the Irish to load the boat.

The first thing I did after I stepped onto the deck was take a deep breath.

When I had first imagined the fragrance of this great "unsinkable ship" to be something unimaginable; a smell better than any flower you could pick off the side of the beautiful hills of Ireland. I thought it would be something heavenly, but it wasn't.

The smell of the fresh paint filled my nostrils making me cough out. A man came up behind me and touched my shoulder.

"Are you okay Miss?" he asked me.

"Yes, thank you," I replied, smiling.

The man returned the smile then walked away to help a woman with three children grab some of her bags.

I took another breath, through my mouth this time, but even without my sense of smell I could still taste th rancid smell on my tongue.

"_Its fine, you'll get over it," _I told myself, trying to be reasonable, but every time I took another breath that awful smell lingered in my nose, and itching my throat.

I walked inside and took a few flights of stairs down to the level I my room was in.

Slowly, I pushed open the door and found that I was the first person in the room, so I got to pick the bed I wanted.

To my relief, to rooms only smelled faintly, of the paint, but anywhere else I went the smell was nauseating. I didn't know what to do. There was no way I could spent the whole remainder of the trip locked up in my room, but I couldn't leave behind such a great opportunity simply because the paint smelled bad, but I didn't want to be sick the whole way over either.

After a little bit of thought I decided I'd be staying.

I only spent a few minutes getting my things set in place in the room before I decided to explore. The hallways were all lighted and the walls whitewashed, there was nothing on them, but I had heard that in the first class hallways they had magnificent paintings and detailed wallpaper decorating the whole length of the corridors. The rooms were said to be even greater. They were supposed to have comfortable chairs, couches and beds, which were decorated nicer than the halls. I had no idea if what rumors were true or not and I never would because a third class Irish woman would never be invited into first class accommodations.

I decided not to continue down the corridors any longer since they would all look the same. Instead, I made my way back up to the deck.

I thought that maybe coming back out here again wouldn't be as worse as the first time but as soon as the stench of the fresh pain filled my nostrils again I felt a strong urge to throw up; for once I was actually thankful that because of the famine in Ireland because there was nothing in my stomach to come back up.

I took a few more breaths, trying to calm my senses, but once again I forgot about the sickening smell. Before I knew it I had fallen to the ground and was breathing hard.

I needed to get off. I couldn't go any further. This was hell.

As soon as my head was cleared again I slowly stood back up and walked down to the lower levels to grab my bag so that I could leave as soon as possible. I couldn't believe that I was doing this, it seemed so selfish, but a little voice in the back of my head said everything would be all right; that for some reason I was making the right choice.

I scanned the room, once more time, so to memorize every aspect of the room so that I would at least be able to go back with some details of what I'd seen.

I wasn't really sure what happened after that. My mind was filled with racing thoughts of what I was doing, about how stupid this was, but I didn't care. Once again, I stepped onto the deck and felt bile rise up in my throat. I instantly began to walk faster.

Once I deboarded I broke down and started crying. How could I make such a reckless discussion? I had given up such a great chance for a better life, for such a pointless little reason.

_What would everyone else at home think?_

I didn't even want to think about that.

In my state it took me an extremely long time to walk back, and when I finally did reach home everyone just looked up from their work, or whatever they had been doing, and stared up at me.

My mother came out first screaming and crying at me, but it was not from disappointment or anger. She was crying because of happiness; because she was happy to have me here, at home.

I smiled at her and said, "I did get on, but I didn't stay on. I got sick."

"…**But she didn't."**

* * *

**Please tell me what you thought. I've never written anything like this so I'd really like to hear what you thought I did good and what you didn't like about it. Even if you hated it, please, take the time to review.**

**Alexa**


	2. During

**A/N: Please review when you are done reading this! I don't care who you are! Review!**

_April 14__, 1912, Sunday night continuing into Monday morning, April 15_

It didn't take long for me to get settled in back home.

I had long ago set my things back in their regular places. Looking around my room, there wasn't much; I didn't even have a proper bed. There was a very old mattress on the floor covered with two shabby blankets, which were probably as old as the bed. The floor was notice but dirt which made it dusty when you had walked over it many times with out dusty. It was nothing grand and fancy but it was home.

I told everyone goodnight and went to bed early. After the ordeal the other day I didn't have much energy.

I lowered myself onto the mattress and quickly got comfortable. Then, I fell into what seemed to be a deep slumber.

I know I must have slept soundly for a few hours but sometime early morning I started tossing and turning, although I stayed asleep.

Water.

It was surrounding me in every direction except up. I could hear the distressed calls of adults and crying of children. I wished I could help them but I had no idea where the calls were coming from.

Suddenly I was standing in a whitewashed room. There wasn't much in it except for a few bags and two bunk beds. All the beds were full except for one. Soon I realized it was the room on the Titanic I was supposed to be staying it. Suddenly water started seeping into the room from underneath the walls. I walked backwards towards the door when suddenly I felt myself being pulled out of the room and I stood suddenly on the outside deck. People were pushing their way towards the life boats.

Women were screaming and clinging onto their husbands and children. The children all called for their parents as they were shoved roughly into the boats.

Everyone was panicking, and they couldn't get the life boats with people into the water quick enough. Suddenly, the ship began to tip and people slid off the deck and fell into the icy depths below.

I was then, very aware of how cold it was. I felt like I was floating and then and looked around me. I saw that I was surrounded by water. Something else was floating towards me. I swam over too see what it was.

My heart neatly stopped when I saw what it was. Two frozen blue eyes stared blankly at me. I screamed and pushed the corps away. Swimming backwards I ran into something else. I turned around and saw another body, then another, and another. I screamed again and then felt something suddenly slap me against the face.

I bolted up in my bed, almost hitting heads with my mother who was leaning above me with a concerned look on her face.

"I'm fine," I said.

She just nodded and walked towards the door, sending me only one more glance over her shoulder.

After she exited the room I looked around my room and saw that my blanket hat both been pushed completely off the bed. That's probably why I had felt so cold.

I got, made my bed then crawled back into it. I sat there until the morning sun rose above the green Ireland hills; too afraid to go back asleep. I just stared up at the ceiling and tried not to think about the horrors of my dream.

Ironically when you try not to think of something, you only think about it more.

**A/N: Review!**


	3. After

A/N: Ok peoples review when you are done reading this

**A/N: Ok peoples review when you are done reading this! I do allow anon. reviews! Please I really would like to know what you think!**

_Monday, April 15, 1912_

I was happy when this sun finally rose so that I could start my day and hopefully busy myself with tasks that would keep my mind off the nightmare from last night, but it was hard. My thoughts kept wandering and I couldn't help but think about what I might be doing aboard the Titanic.

Everything I saw reminded me of it; the lights, my bed, even the chickens. I just couldn't help but kick myself for being so stupid. It had been more than two weeks since I had gotten of that ship. Usually I thought the same thing everyday, about how happy I would have been if I hadn't of gotten off.

Today was different. Instead of the regret and stupidity that I usually felt for myself I felt…guilty? I couldn't figure out why though.

Towards mid-day mother noticed that she had run out of flour. My brothers were all working out in the field trying to get the worthless potato crop to grow and she didn't want to disturb them so she sent me into town to fetch it for her.

I didn't mind. Walking was fun almost for me. I liked to wander the hills or walk along the ocean shoreline; it gave me time to think.

Today, walking along the dusty road, I found it hard to think. I kicked a rock back and forth between my feet then scanned my surrounding for ay real sign of life. There wasn't any.

The fields where our neighbors and friends used to farm were all bare and the houses were left empty as they took their few remaining possessions to search for a place where the famine wasn't so bad. No one had heard of such a place but I guess they thought it was worth a try.

My parents had argued many times over this subject. My mother wanted to leave, she didn't think that there was anything left here for us, but my father was a proud stubborn man and he didn't want to leave. He insisted that he could get the crop to grow and that we could live a care-free happy life again. My mother gave in and we stayed but every-so-often the subject would come up again, along with another argument.

I could tell something was wrong as soon as I got close enough to see the town clearly. People were running all over the place and I could here the paper boy desperately trying to shout over everyone's voices.

"_That's odd," _I thought,_ "There's never any news."_

Women were crying and small children hung tight to their mother's dirty dresses looking around, confused about what was happening.

Suddenly I felt someone run up to me from behind and hug me tightly. I looked up to see my best friend, Lana, clinging to me.

"They're gone!" she screamed through tear filled eyes.

"Both of them are gone, _dead,_" she said again.

I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Seamus and James are both dead! I'm never going to see them again!" Lana yelled at me, wishing I would get the point.

"What?" was all I could ask. James was Lana's older brother and Seamus was a man who Lana hoped someday to marry, she was in love with him. "How do you know this?"

She looked down at her feet before continuing.

"Can't you hear them?" she asked. "The lad over there…" she said, nodding to the paper boy still screaming out the mornings headlines. I tired to listen to what he was screaming but she continued explaining before I had the chance. "They're all dead. Everyone…"

She couldn't go on. Another tear ran down her face.

I gently prodded her on, "Who's dead?"

Nothing.

"Lana? Who's dead?"

She looked up and took a deep breath.

"The Titanic, it's gone, somewhere laid down to rest, forever sleeping among the fish. Gone," She paused for a moment but then, suddenly her emotions took control of her and she couldn't hold it in any longer. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this! It was supposed to be the unsinkable ship! It wasn't supposed to go down! It's wasn't supposed to sink! It…it…it…"

Then she collapsed into my arms, leaving me completely alone in my thoughts.

"…_Sleeping among the fish. Gone…"_ the word rang in my head as I tied to shake it off.

No, it couldn't be, it was impossible, why would all those people lie to us? It had to be a mistake. It had to, it just _had_ to. There was no possible way…but what if there was? What if it wasn't all a lie? What if all those people really were floating lifeless somewhere in the Ocean? I shook my head. No, it couldn't be true. I refused to believe it.

The paperboy moved up further along the street closer to us. Then, suddenly, I could hear what he was saying.

"Titanic sinks four hours after hitting iceberg!" he screamed. "Eight hundred sixty-six rescued! One thousand, two hundred and fifty left to perish!"

I felt like I was going to throw up. It was true. All of those people were gone. I thought that it would all pass until realization hit me. _I was supposed to have been on that ship._

I wasn't even supposed to be here now. I was supposed to be gone, living peacefully in heaven.

"Maybe, your brother and Seamus were rescued," I offered.

Lana shook her head, "No, they were at the bottom," she said. "There's no way they could have survived."

"Don't say that," I said. "You never know, maybe by some strange miracle they survived."

Lana was just about to protest but then her mother came into view, beckoning her over. Lana's mother's eyes were red and puffy too, she had obviously been crying along with her daughter.

I squeezed her one more time then let her go. Lana trotted over to where her mother was standing; only looking over her shoulder at me once before leaving.

When they were finally out of view I stood there for a moment; looking at the spot where they had disappeared.

There was no way I could imagine what she was going through; a lost brother, and a lost lover, both at one time. Lana was strong; it was amazing how well she held herself together. You could see her pain, you could see that she hurt but never less she stood strait and proud, as if she had something she had to prove to everybody. I admired her for that.

Unexpectedly, I felt something wet roll down my face; surprised to find that it was a tear. I wasn't as strong as I thought I was. I tried to wipe them off my face but the more I did so the quicker they fell. Before long I felt myself sobbing.

My legs were shaking and threatening to collapse beneath me. Then, I felt two strong warm hands wrap around my waist, holding me up.

"Ye' alright miss?" I twirled around and found myself staring into two beautiful blue eyes. The man was handsome, I couldn't deny it. He had brown hair with a tint of read that reflected beautifully in the sunlight. The stubble on his chin looked freshly shaven and he wore expensive looking clothes; too expensive for anyone in this part of the country.

"Y-yes," I stammered, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked politely.

"Yes, I just need to get some flour, then I should be heading back home," I told him.

"Oh, would you mind if I accompanied you at least around town? We don't want you falling and hurting yourself now, do we?" he asked. It was surprising how well his charm already worked on me.

"Sure," I said, laughing a bit at his last remark.

He looked at me strangely and said, "You have a beautiful laugh."

I blushed and walked over to one of the stores, to buy the flour my mother had asked for. When I handed my few coins to the woman taking the money, the man pushed it away and handed her his own money. I glared at him and thanked him when we got out.

"You know I could have paid for that," I said.

"Yes, but I didn't want you to," he told me.

"That's great for you but I don't even know your name or anything about you," I said reaching for the bag of flour that he was also carrying for me. He didn't let go.

"Nolan," he said.

"What?"

"My name, it's Nolan. Now if you want your flour back you'll have to tell m yours," he insisted.

I sighed and then told him my name, "Helena."

Nolan smiled, "It's a pretty name."

"Thank you I said, now can I have my flour?" I asked him.

"No, I'd rather carry it," he said, letting a beautiful smile creep across his face.

"What? But you said…" he cut me off.

"I was going to see if I could walk with you to your home," he said.

I shrugged, "I don't see why not but you'd probably get your clothes dirty," I said, nodding to his fancy attire.

"Is it a long walk?" he asked, not answering my question.

"Yes," I answered simply.

"Good, that leaves us longer to talk," Nolan said, running ahead of me and backwards so that he could look at my face.

He was still smiling as was I but I think that was only because he was. Suddenly his smiled disappeared.

"Helena?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Why were your crying earlier today?" he said slowing down to walk next to me at my same speed.

I looked at him and didn't say anything for a moment. Then I stopped.

"You know that ship; the Titanic?" I asked.

He nodded, "The one that sank?"

"Yes, that one," I took a deep breath. "Well I'm not supposed to be here. I was supposed to be on that ship, but I got off because of the paint; it made me sick. I'm supposed to be dead, but I'm not, and all those other people are. I just feel so guilty," then I started sobbing, but it only took a moment for Nolan to wrap his arms around my waist and whispered things in to my ear to try and calm me while he rocked me back in forth. I then, somehow, knew everything would be all right. I would live a happy life with children and grandchildren and maybe some day I would get to see the America's.

I didn't know why I didn't stay on that boat. I didn't know why I was the one that got sick and I never would.

But I couldn't help but ask myself, _"Why?"_

I guess…f_ate, maybe?_

**The End**

**I was thinking about possible writing a sequel with an actual plot, but I would want more people to read it first. Tell me if you think I should write one. Don't forget to **_**REVIEW! **_**I need them on this chapter more than any other!**


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